Gibbs kept his face impassive as stared at Shepard’s flower draped coffin. He’d initially been surprised that the upper portion of the coffin was open to reveal her head and shoulders. Gibbs had expected a closed casket until the cynic in him realized an open casket was just another way to help cover up how she really died. Her official cause of death was smoke inhalation. Leaving the lid open made it seem as though there was nothing to hide; leaving it open would help put to rest any lingering questions by putting her unblemished face on display for all to see.
It was a good thing she hadn’t taken a round to the head, Gibbs thought with disgust. That would have complicated things a bit, but he was sure Vance would have found some way around it. Tony was right when he said the man was smart. Working for an idiot held no appeal whatsoever, but working for someone so well versed in the art of covering up the truth wasn’t much better.
Gibbs stifled a sigh. He’d talked to his team and they’d all thought he should stay--at least until they could figure out where they stood with Vance. McGee didn’t have enough time or experience to warrant being given the slot as team leader, and Ziva wasn’t even officially an NCIS agent, which meant Vance would either replace Gibbs with a stranger or break up the team entirely.
A new team lead would be hard for them to adjust to, but it was doable. It would probably be someone from the DC office. Not a complete stranger, but someone they’d at least recognize and could get information on quickly.
Splitting up the team was something else entirely. It was one thing for a single member to leave. They’d survived Kate’s death. Had handled Tony’s leaving. But to be summarily reassigned en masse wasn’t anything they really wanted to contemplate. Gibbs couldn’t leave his people to face that possibility until he was sure they could handle it.
He couldn’t, in good conscious, abandon his people to the unknown. When he’d left the last time he hadn’t been himself, but he’d known Shepard would leave the team intact. He’d known Tony would be there to look out for them. Tony had kept them safe and sane, even though no one, Gibbs included, had fully appreciated it at the time.
His team were capable people; he knew that. McGee had grown a lot; he’d come a long way as an agent since first being assigned to the team. Ziva knew how to look out for herself; but he dreaded the thought of her returning to the way she’d been when she first arrived. Being with the team had helped her open up more, to relax and enjoy life. Abby and Ducky weren’t any slouches either; they looked out for each other and knew how to avoid undo attention when need be. But Gibbs had been responsible for his people for too long to simply walk away and leave them in the care of someone he didn’t trust to look out for them. Vance was too much of a wild card for Gibbs to walk away immediately and feel like he’d done right by his people.
Not comfortable with having no real decision or staying indefinitely when he no longer felt as driven to do the job as he once did, Gibbs set a deadline. It would be another three months before the boat was finished. By then everyone involved should have a better sense of what Vance would be like to work for and whether or not they were willing to stick it out even if it meant being reassigned. Three months would give everyone time to adjust to future changes.
And if Vance was too much of a prick, Gibbs would likely not be the only one leaving. Gibbs hadn’t considered that the rest of his team might have been just as soured by recent events as he was and might be thinking of leaving the agency as well. They too had felt betrayed by Shepard. She hadn’t trusted any of them, and by pursuing her own personal vendetta she failed to uphold the duties of her office and called every order they’d carried out into question. And none of them overlooked the fact it could just have easy been one of them as it was Tony that she screwed over. Her hand in Benoit and Kort’s deaths and the embezzlement of funds only made things worse.
That Vance hadn’t elected to see her posthumously pay for any of her actions but choose to cover it up didn’t bode well for the future. They’d already dealt with one director who wasn’t completely honest with them; no one was particularly keen to deal with another.
Gibbs had been worried about their futures, but was assured he need not be. His team was quick to point out to him that they had other options.
Ducky could retire if he wanted. He was certainly old enough, and had more than enough saved to cover his cost of living. The older man had kept working because he enjoyed the challenge his job presented, and teaching what he knew to his assistants. Palmer was well on his way to becoming a competent ME, and Ducky would no doubt see him through the final phase of his education. But staying at NCIS was not a requirement. He could just as easily mentor Palmer on a case-by-case basis or work on as a consultant if need be. Leaving would give him more time to spend with his mother whose health had been declining rapidly for the past year. It would also allow him the freedom to explore publishing articles in various professional journals and participating in more conferences.
Abby had numerous job offers. If she quit, she could go to work for someone else and make double or even triple her current pay. The money didn’t matter to Abby, it never had. The team was her family and she loved working at NCIS. But with Tony gone, and if Gibbs and Ducky were to leave, she might reconsider her stance with regard to working in the private sector. She’d already researched a few companies with home operations along the Gulf of Mexico.
Ziva could go back to Israel and Mossad. She hadn’t come right out and said that she did not want to, but Gibbs got that impression just the same. Regardless of how she felt about Mossad, Gibbs was sure she’d be welcomed back there. He hadn’t met her father, but Gibbs doubted her status as his daughter would be the reason Eli David would be glad to have Ziva back. She was too good an operative to be allowed free rein indefinitely. As someone responsible for the well being of his people, Gibbs could understand wanting to have such an asset readily available. But as a father, he couldn’t fathom ever encouraging his child to enter into a profession so fraught with danger, to value her more for what she could do than for who she was. Gibbs would prefer she stay in the US to going back to work for her father, but it wasn’t his call.
Like Abby, McGee had skills he could put to use elsewhere. Someone with his computer savvy should not have much trouble finding work in the private sector, or he could switch to the cyber crimes division if he didn’t want to risk being in the field with people he didn’t trust. And he had his writing career to tide him over if necessary. He was working on another novel and given the success of his first two, getting a third published wouldn’t be hard.
The fact that they’d all considered alternatives to working for NCIS was eye opening for Gibbs. He’d never thought of doing anything else. He’d mustered out of the Corps into working as an agent. His whole life had been devoted to service of his country in one fashion or another. It felt odd to even consider doing anything else.
Four months in Mexico hadn’t been about moving forward or even establishing a life. At the time, he hadn’t given any thought to the future, Gibbs was too busy trying to recapture the fifteen years of memories he’d lost. It was enough then to simply take each day as it came, to have no bigger plan than to finish whatever improvements to Franks’ cabin he’d started the day before. Working with his hands helped him focus and it beat the hell out of just sitting in the sun brooding while drinking himself stupid.
Gibbs forced himself to focus on the funeral service. He was glad no one asked him to give the eulogy. Not that I expected anyone to, Gibbs thought wryly. He wasn’t known for his public speaking skills.
Finally the service was coming to a close. He was grateful Shepard hadn’t opted for a Catholic funeral. The symbolism and ritual of a funeral mass were far too familiar to Gibbs, comforting because of that, but he didn’t want anything that would drag this out any longer than it already had. He knew it was disrespectful but all Gibbs really wanted was for Shepard to be in the ground and buried.
The pallbearers were all NCIS agents. Gibbs recognized them and knew their names but not much more than that. All of them were young, and Gibbs was sure they were picked for the job by Vance. Fresh faced and naïve enough to think being assigned the duty of carrying Shepard was an honor. It would be an honor, Gibbs mused, if Shepard really had been a credit to the agency, if her death had been an accident and not the byproduct of her own actions.
Gibbs waited for her coffin to pass by, unconsciously bowing his head in an ingrained habit of respect for the dead. He closed his eyes and said a quick prayer. She’d been someone he’d trusted once, someone he respected. Who she’d been warranted that much from him if not who she ultimately had become.
Once the coffin passed, Gibbs waited patiently for the other attendees to file out. The grave side service was for close friends and family. Gibbs was relieved he and his team didn’t fall into either category. Although, given that Vance wanted to see him and his team immediately after the funeral having the delay would have almost been welcomed.
Gibbs collected his team with his eyes and they headed for the door. It was time to go face the music and see what the hell Vance had to say. Gibbs sighed silently, suddenly missing Lundy and LaFiamma’s back porch, the Texas sunshine and Tony as his back.
The trip to the office was made in silence. Gibbs expected the others to talk to each other if not to him. He realized he’d telegraphed his mood and they were reacting to it. Ziva and McGee were sober, focused, like they were going into a dangerous situation. Abby was chewing nervously on her thumbnail, eyes darting seeking either reassurance or escape Gibbs wasn’t sure. Ducky looked composed, but then he rarely looked ruffled so Gibbs didn’t read too much into that.
Gibbs stifled a shiver when he got out of the car. Houston had been down right balmy compared to DC. After his stint in the Gulf, Gibbs had grown accustomed to the heat and no longer cared for winter weather. He routinely wore layers for most of the year to offset the chilled feeling that set in whenever the thermometer dipped below sixty degrees.
Tony would have noticed the shiver and teased him about getting old. Gibbs had missed having someone around who noticed those little details. McGee and Ziva might watch him, spend time trying to gauge his mood and anticipate what he wanted done, but they never saw him the same way Tony did.
Walking through the office, he could feel the subdued mood handing heavy in the air. Nearly everyone he saw was wearing black. Gibbs had chosen a black suit for the funeral that he knew looked good but he didn’t particularly like. One of his exes had bought it for him, and he figured if he felt like burning it later, he wouldn’t be out anything. He knew Abby hadn’t worn the same dress she wore to Kate’s funeral nor was it one she routinely wore to church, and he suspected the dress she was currently wearing might join his suit in the fire. The others didn’t invest much thought or emotion in their wardrobe, but Gibbs knew none of them were wearing anything they’d considered a favorite item. Subtle displays of disrespect regardless of how respectful they may have acted were telling to anyone willing to look.
Gibbs didn’t bother stopping by his desk, he just headed up the stairs. His team followed in his wake. He nodded politely to the new secretary sitting at what used to be Cynthia’s desk. Abby said the office gossip was rife with why Vance had Cynthia reassigned to Norfolk. Gibbs doubted there was any truth to the most outlandish rumor which claimed Cynthia was an old flame of Vance’s that he’d gotten rid of her before his wife could find out and get jealous. It was far more likely Vance had her reassigned to prevent her from discussing anything about Shepard’s recent activities--not that the office gossip would ever guess that since most of them were blithely unaware of what Shepard had been doing and how she died. Given how secretive Shepard had been, Cynthia was likely equally oblivious, but Gibbs knew Vance wouldn’t be the sort not to take any chances.
Vance had reassigned the two agents on Shepard’s security detail, Baker and Simmons, as well. Baker was headed for the Seahawk as the Agent Afloat. On paper it looked like a promotion, but Gibbs knew it was just a way to keep her isolated. There were no other agents for her to talk to at sea and as the only cop on board a ship with a crew of 5,000 she’d be too busy to say much of anything about Shepard’s death. Gibbs hoped like hell her guilt didn’t lead to her jumping overboard.
Simmons had been shipped overseas to the Persian Gulf. He’d be working with other agents in the field tracking terrorist and whatever else the Director thought needed someone to keep an eye on. Gibbs hoped Simmons knew enough to keep his head down and could trust his new team. The desert was no place to be without good back up.
“We’re here to see the Director,” Gibbs told the petite secretary when she looked up at him. She had the quintessential delicate features, straight dark hair, and flawless skin beautiful Asian women were renowned for. Gibbs made a mental note to mention a lost opportunity to flirt to Tony. He’d always enjoyed flirting with Cynthia; Tony would probably have enjoyed flirting with the new secretary too.
Not knowing who she was, Gibbs thought it best to identify himself just in case she didn’t know him either. “Special Agent Gibbs,” he gestured to the people behind him, “and my team.”
“Director Vance mentioned you’d be stopping by,” she said as she picked up the phone. She punched what had to be the intercom connecting her to Vance’s office with a manicured nail. “Sir, Special Agent Gibbs and his team are here to see you.”
She nodded to whatever was being said and then hung up. She smiled at Gibbs and gestured toward the door. “You can go right in.”
Gibbs opened the door and stepped inside. It was odd to see Vance behind Shepard’s desk. But then, Gibbs thought ruefully, it had been odd to see her behind that desk when I thought of it as Morrow’s.
Vance stood, dark eyes sweeping over all of them. “Thank you for coming.”
“Didn’t think we had a choice, Director,” Gibbs responded dryly. He’d been sorely tempted to use the man’s first name rather than his title, but he didn’t want to appear too confrontational just yet. Better to wait and hear what he had to say first.
“I’ve spent some time reviewing the personnel files, and I’ve decided that a few changes were needed.”
Gibbs didn’t like the sound of that, but he kept his face impassive. He waited for the man to tell them just what changes he felt were warranted. He could feel the tension coming from his team, but they’d followed his lead and stayed quiet.
Vance looked at Ziva. She stood at Gibbs right, just a half step behind his shoulder. Gibbs didn’t have to look at her to know she was meeting Vance’s eyes and holding his gaze easily.
“Officer David, your position here at NCIS is decidedly unorthodox. While we have benefited greatly from your presence and appreciate the good work you’ve done here, it is not something I can allow to continue. An agent of another government should be acting as a liaison, something done with a less hands on approach than you’ve been doing, not as field agent.”
“I understand, Director.” Her voice was soft, controlled, revealing nothing about how she might be feeling about his decision.
“I thought you might.” Vance nodded. “I’ve already spoken with Director David. He is expecting you to call about arranging travel back to Israel when we are done here.”
Gibbs wanted to protest, but he knew now wasn’t the time or the place. LaFiamma had already pointed out Ziva’s position meant she was serving two masters. Divided loyalties were never a good thing. And without support from someone like Shepard, there was no way to realistically justify Ziva’s continued presence and working essentially as an agent. Vance was wiping the slate clean.
Vance shifted his attention to McGee who stood a step behind Gibbs and a little to his left. Under Vance’s gaze, Gibbs noted McGee not quite coming to attention, but he definitely straightened up.
“You make a very fine field agent, McGee, but I think your talents would be better utilized in our cyber crimes division. They could use someone with your ability to lead the way.”
That sounded vaguely like a promotion and it had been on McGee’s list of career options. Gibbs’ jaw clenched. If you younger man wanted it, he wasn’t going to tell him no. He waited for some sort of response from McGee, but the man remained silent.
“Miss Sciuto, your work has always been exemplary. NCIS is lucky to have you.” Vance smiled, and seemed disappointed when Abby didn’t smile back. “However, it isn’t good for you or the agency to have you working alone. I know you have objection to working with an assistant, and given what happened with the last one you were assigned, I can fully under stand that. So, I’m not going to be assigning you a one. The budget has room for us to hire another forensic specialist and I’d like you to give them full access to your lab as needed as well as showing them the ropes. He or she will not be working cases with you, but rather focusing on their own cases. This will give us the extra manpower to meet future demands and ensure you aren’t working an excessive number of hours.”
Gibbs cursed silently. Abby didn’t share her lab with anyone, ever. He waited for Abby to protest, but she remained uncharacteristically silent. That didn’t bode well. A quiet Abby could be dangerous.
“Dr. Mallard--“
“Yes, Director,” Ducky responded. He stepped forward.
“Like Miss Scuito your work has always been excellent, and your reputation above reproach.”
“But?” Ducky looked at him, a tight smile forming.
Vance smiled back at him. “According to our personnel department, you will be reaching the mandatory retirement age next year. I’ve given some thought as to who would replace you, and I would like your input on subject.”
Ducky’s spine stiffened. “Jimmy Palmer is already working toward that end.”
“Mr. Palmer is a good assistant,” Vance tipped his head acknowledging that fact. “However, he still has several years of school to complete and would not be fully qualified to take over for you until then. We cannot run your department without a fully qualified medical examiner. And I’d prefer one with a bit more experience.”
“With all due respect, Director, I was not as experienced when I took the job as I am now. With a little time--“
“I’m not prepared to run any department with someone green as grass at the helm, Doctor.”
“I see.” Ducky’s tone was formal, just as stiff as his posture. Gibbs wondered if Vance even realized how big a mistake he’d just made. Ducky cultivated friends the way his mother once had flowers. He knew a lot of people in his profession and it was a safe bet none of them would be willing to work for NCIS once Ducky got done speaking with them. Vance might well be forced to hire someone with no more experience than Palmer.
“What about me?” Gibbs asked, drawing Vance’s attention to himself, and hopefully allowing Ducky to retain control of his temper before he belted the man one. Not that Vance wouldn’t deserve it, but Gibbs would prefer to be the one to do it.
Vance picked up three folders off his desk and offered them to Gibbs. “You’ll be training a new team.”
Gibbs eyed the folders but didn’t take them. He took a breath and let it out slowly, weighing his options carefully before saying anything.
If he’d been given some hope, however vague, that he could eventually put his team back together, Gibbs would not object to training new people. He’d done it before, and he could do it again, but he’d gotten used to working with people he trusted. He’d grown accustomed to knowing those under him could get the job done--even without him around. He wanted his team, his surrogate family. Three new agents weren’t going to cut it.
Tony was in Houston. His coming back was as likely as seeing pigs fly. Ducky was being told in no uncertain terms he was expected to retire and leave his protégé twisting in the wind. There was no way the ME would allow that. He’d find Palmer a position worthy of him and leave Vance twisting in the wind. Abby would not tolerate sharing her lab nor would she likely be willing to deal with new agents in lieu of the ones she’d come to think of as family. She’d walk, talk one of the many job offers she’d been contemplating; with Ducky and Tony gone she wouldn’t come back. Ziva being sent to Israel meant they’d probably never see her again or at the very least she wouldn’t be the person she’d become working with them. She’d revert to the hard ass assassin they’d been leery of. Gibb wasn’t sure if that was a lesser tragedy in this clusterfuck or one all on it’s own. McGee might actually enjoy being promoted, and once in cybercrimes, Gibbs didn’t hold out a lot of hope he’d want to return. Computers were where McGee felt the most confident and capable. With cybercrimes he likely would never have to draw his gun again or be responsible for a life and death decision. Why would he give that up to go back to work for Gibbs when Abby, Ducky, and Ziva were already gone?
Gibbs made eye contact with Vance, blue eyes challenging brown. “I’ll need to think about taking on a new team.”
“Nothing to think about.” Vance countered, tone firm.
Gibbs’ eyes narrowed as he studied Vance. “That’s what I thought you’d say.” He smirked. “You’ll have the paperwork for my retirement on your desk by oh eight hundred tomorrow.”
“You’re going to quit?” Vance asked, eyebrows rising.
Gibbs just did an about face and started for the door. His team moved quickly to follow suit. Gibbs held the door, letting them leave before him.
“Gibbs,” Vance called out.
He stopped to look over his shoulder. “Yeah?”
“You turn in that paperwork and I won’t misplace it.”
That was clearly intended to be a warning, an effort to call his bluff. Gibbs just laughed. “Hell, Leon, if I thought you were going to lose track of it, I wouldn’t have offered to give it to you in the first place.”
Author's Chapter Notes:
Shepard's funeral, and the meeting with Vance